


Forever

by H3avydirtysoul



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Amnesia, Anger, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, But you'll love him anyway, Friends to Lovers, Gavin is Connor's partner, Good Dog Sumo (Detroit: Become Human), M/M, Memory Loss, Mentions of Coma, OOC Gavin, Poor Hank, Slow Burn, kind of, lots of swearing, no beta we die like men, ten years is a long time but everything turns out fine, theres's suffering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 11:00:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17323778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/H3avydirtysoul/pseuds/H3avydirtysoul
Summary: Hank had left Detroit because there was nothing else there for him.And that wasn't going to change. Not in five, not in ten years.Death was permanent.What could be worse than not having the courage of telling the one you love that you love them? Hank knew the answer to that.Being stripped of the chance to do so. Forever------Or the one where Hank left the DPD after the death of his partner only to come back ten years later and find out that, after all, Connor's still alive. Even if he can't remember.





	Forever

**Author's Note:**

> I had a lot of restraint going on not to publish this before it was finished.  
> I wanted to give it to you guys in one go.
> 
> Enjoy.

Hank couldn't believe his ears. When he entered Captain Andrews' office in the NYPD precinct that day, he thought it was all about his behavior. Another disciplinary warning or something of the sort. But definitely not this. And nothing could've prepared him for the information his Captain disclosed.  
  
"What?!" He asked, leaning forward in his seat, his eyebrows furrowed in anger already.  
  
"Jeffrey Fowler called me and asked to transfer you back to the DPD. You heard me." The Captain said, frowning.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I did! What I want to know is why." Anderson said, his voice rising. As did his anger.  
  
"Their Lieutenant is transferring here. Something about getting married and his fiance having a house here or something. So he asked for you back."  
  
"I can't believe Jeffrey's doing this to me." Hank let out, shaking his head in disbelief. Years ago, he'd worked at the DPD, but something happened and he asked to be placed somewhere else. Fowler sent him to New York.  
  
Andrews sighed.  
  
"I know that whatever made you leave Detroit had a huge fucking impact in your life. But you've been here for ten years, Hank. Ten. That's a long time. Maybe it really is time for you to go back home."  
  
Hank snorted.  
  
“You're saying that because you're dying to get rid of my ass here. No place is home anymore, certainly not Detroit." He said, placing an accusing finger on the glass desk in front of him.  
  
"You know that's not true. I know we don't always see eye to eye or that I don't always approve of your antics, but you're experienced and you know what you do. So don't think I'm all that happy to let you go."  
  
"I'm gonna have quite the fuckin' chat with Jeffrey when I get there, Andrews." The Lieutenant said through gritted teeth. "When am I due there?"  
  
"In a week." Andrews said, leaning back on his chair, the tension now leaving his body. He thought it would be quite the heated argument when he delivered the news, but it went better than expected. He had heard whispers about the reason for Hank's transfer, all those years ago. Rumor had that his then partner, Connor Page, had died in a car crash. But Andrews never once asked Hank about it, so he didn't know for sure if that was the whole reason for it. At first, he'd thought the reason for the transfer had been Anderson's reprehensible behavior at work, but he soon found out that before Hank had been nothing short of the paragon of competence. Top of his class and youngest lieutenant in Detroit's police force history.  
  
  
"Was that all?" Hank asked, standing up.  
  
"Yes. You may go now. Tomorrow's your last day."  
  
Hank's eyes widened at that, but he didn't say anything else. He just nodded and turned around, leaving the office with his mind in a haze.

* * *

The time to leave for Detroit came faster than he'd wanted. Soon he was on the road with his dog Sumo in the passenger's seat, by his side, keeping him company for the drive that would last almost half a day. But he would rather drive than fly, anyway.  
  
Next thing he knew, he was settling in his new place, a one bedroom house in a quiet neighborhood. It was more than enough for Hank's needs. Once he was over unpacking and settling for good, he took a good look around his living room and kitchen. He felt a certain sadness consuming him. It was almost night time. And he knew he was the saddest when it came around.  
  
Ten years. Ten years had gone by and he still hadn't gotten over it. Over that tragedy that didn't kill him in the literal sense, but did so in the figurative one. Hell, he'd rather have died in his place. He would do anything - _anything_ \- to go back in time and trade places with him. Because he sure as hell hadn't deserved such a fate.  
  
A bark brought Hank back to his living room. He swallowed a sob and looked at Sumo, who was standing near his empty bowl.  
  
"Sorry, Sumo. I'll get your food, buddy." Hank said, going to fetch the dog's food, filling his bowl next. He petted Sumo's head and ruffled the fur around his neck. "I'm gonna go out now, but I won't be long. Be a good boy, Sumo."  
  
The dog woofed as his owner left for the liquor store and lay down next to his bowl, the food remaining untouched.

* * *

The next day, Hank woke up around 2 pm. Sumo had decided it was time for his owner to get off the couch he had passed out on and take him on a walk, so he ran his wet tongue over Hank's cheek.  
  
"Sumo... Stop..." Came Hank's rough voice. He didn't wanna get up. His head was killing him and so was his stomach. "Oh, God..." He felt something come up and immediately realized he didn't have a saying in whether he was getting up or not. He tried to stand up quickly to run to the bathroom, but he almost tripped on the empty bottle by the couch.  
  
"Ah, fuck that!" He yelled, pissed, trying to steady himself as he made his way to the bathroom, a hand over his mouth. He knelt in front of the toilet and let it all out, feeling the worst he'd felt in a long time.  
  
After that predicament, Hank did his morning routine, taking all the time in the world because, in all honesty, ' _fuck the DPD and fuck Fowler!_ '. He would step into the precinct when he bloody felt like it.  
  
He left the house after half an hour, in his car, driving downtown, choosing the longer route, as if by doing so he could avoid the destination and everything it represented altogether. As he got closer, he started feeling more anxious about the whole situation. He finally pulled over and parked his car in the parking lot. He killed the engine and took a few deep breaths, resting his head against the headrest. Despite his attempts at calming down and the warm temperature in the vehicle, he felt a chill go down his spine. He noticed his hands shaking.  
  
"Fuck it." He said, a last effort to pull himself together. He opened the door and stepped out of the car. It was a little past 3 pm, he noticed as he took a look at his watch. He walked into the building and approached the receptionist at the counter.  
  
Androids. _Of_ _course_ , he thought. Ten years ago there were actual people performing that duty, but now it was an android duty. Figures.  
  
"I'm Lieutenant Hank Anderson. I have an appointment with Captain Fowler." He said and the android smiled. Her LED turned yellow and he knew she was scanning him, confirming his ID. It returned to blue.  
  
"ID confirmed. We've been expecting you since this morning, sir. You can go ahead, I'll inform Captain Fowler of your presence."  
  
Hank gave her a hint of a smile and went through the security gate. The main room was ahead. He entered it and glanced briefly through the glass window that separated that corridor from the actual space where the desks were. He walked down the corridor like it was none of his business, making his way towards Fowler's office. He hadn't stepped into the main room to avoid attention but apparently, he wasn't going anywhere unnoticed.  
  
"Hank!" A familiar voice called out his name. Gavin Reed, he knew it. He turned around and found out that he was in for a surprise. When he'd left the DPD, Gavin had been in his mid-twenties and an officer. Now...  
  
"Wow, Reed... Look at you." He said, taking a good look at the younger man. He had made it to detective. Ambitious guy like him... It was only natural.

Reed didn't stop until he was right in front of Anderson. He hugged him tightly.

“It's been so long, Lieutenant.” He said, messing with the man by using his title.

Hank hugged him back.

“You've aged. You're old now, Reed. I mean, Detective Reed, sir, sorry, sir.”

Reed let go of the older man and looked at him.

“Seriously?” He asked, deadpan. “I'm thirty-six. I'm at my prime.” Gavin said, smirking. He bumped Hank's arm. “You're what, sixty?”

Anderson rolled his eyes and didn't even reply. Gavin pouted for a second and then sighed, looking over Hank's shoulder to the Captain's office.

“So… It's good to have you back. You're off to see Fowler?” His gray eyes were now on Hank's clear blue ones.

The older man nodded.

“Yeah… I guess I…” He said, his voice trailing off as his eyes looked through the glass window that separated them from the main room and landed on his old desk. It was empty, ready for him. The desk next to his, however, was not. Hank felt a pang in his chest and he swallowed hard, drowning whatever was threatening to come out.

Reed's eyes followed Hank's gaze and he realized what was bugging the man so much. Fuck. This was not gonna happen to him. It wouldn't be him to do the talk, for sure.

“Hey, Anderson, you better go see Fowler.”

Hank's eyes had an unusual shine to them, as if tears were about to come out. Reed didn't comment on that though.

“Yeah, I'm going now.” He said, barely managing his voice to not fail him. “Just… Whose desk is that? Is it my partner's?”

Now it was Gavin's time to swallow hard. His throat hurt when he did so.

“No.” He let out, clenching his jaw. “It's my partner's.”

Hank remained silent, only nodding in acknowledgment. He started walking again, with Gavin by his side, his gaze on the floor. He wasn't prepared for this, fuck. He should've denied the transfer order and stood his ground. Now he was here and he was down a dark path.

“Hey, Gavin!”

A silvery voice called out from behind them. Entering the room was a tall, young looking man, not a day over thirty, one could say. His brown hair was neatly pulled back, except for a charming loose strand that fell over his forehead. His facial features, with a few moles scattered across them, and his brown doe-like eyes made him look like the paragon of handsomeness.

Gavin froze in place even before turning to face the detective calling his name, not another step taken.  
As for Hank…

Hank felt the floor beneath his feet disappear, a giant black hole replacing it, swallowing him whole. His heartbeat sped up and his stomach twisted, tying in a knot. His blue eyes widened in realization and his head felt heavy, his mind presenting a series of images that had been triggered by that voice. An all too familiar voice. His favorite voice.

He had forgotten how to breathe. But the lack of oxygen made him snap out of it. He took a deep breath and pulled himself together, turning around to face the man with that voice, if there was even one. If he wasn't hallucinating.

His eyes then widened some more, before narrowing, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion and his face showing a thousand other emotions, none of them describable. All noises surrounding him suddenly muffled, he felt the weight of the world upon him, crushing him. The world went fully silent, his own erratic heavy breathing inaudible.

The feeling of soft pain on his arm brought him back to reality.

“Hank!”

“Hank, in my office!”

That was Captain Fowler's voice.

Confused, he turned to the man, who was standing just outside his office, by the glass door.

“Hank, let's go.”

“Gavin, what the…” He started, but the brunette shoved him not to roughly in the office's direction.

“Hank, just stay calm. Fowler will explain everything to you.” Reed said, not giving enough fucks about the panic evident in his voice.

Hank walked into the office. Fowler reached out a hand for a handshake, but Anderson ignored.

“You've got a lot of explaining to do, Fowler!” He all but yelled, after closing the door behind him.

Outside, everyone was staring. Gavin was freaking out, hands on his head.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” He muttered under his breath, like a mantra.

“What was that all about?” Officer Chris Miller, who had just stood from his chair, asked.

“Yes, what was that?” The detective who had called out Gavin spoke. He was his partner.

“That” Gavin stated, pointing at the glass-walled office. “Is a storm brewing. And we're all gonna be caught in the middle of it.” He added, before leaving for his desk.

Miller shrugged when the other detective looked at him, clueless.

“That's Lieutenant Anderson.” He supplied, matter-of-factly.

“Oh. So that is him, then? I really thought it was him, but I guess he looks a little different from the photos I've seen.” The young man said, his eyes focused on both men in the office. They seemed to be arguing. Quite violently, if all the gesturing was anything to go by.

And right he was.

Hank hadn't even gotten started. Hadn't even taken a seat.

“Fowler, what the fuck is that?!” He asked, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder in the exterior's general direction.

The other man remained quiet, just staring. He knew Hank wasn't finished, so no point in giving an answer to his question.

“Why…” Hank started, looking through the glass and immediately spotting the reason for his outburst. Fuck, it was real. “Am I having a fucking nightmare, Jeffrey?” He sighed, looking lost now. In all the years Fowler had known Hank Anderson he'd never seen the man with such an anguished expression on his face. Well, maybe back then.

“No. “ Fowler finally spoke. “You're not.”

Hank's hands gripped the back of the chair in front of the desk tightly until his knuckles turned white. He looked down, trying to collect his thoughts.

“Why is someone that looks like Connor right fucking there?” His voice came out dangerously low. His gaze came up again and it met Fowler's, his eyes a hot blue fire, a finger pointing outside.

“Hank, take the fucking seat!”

“No! I'm fine just as is! Now spill, dammit!”

“That's Connor, okay?” Fowler said, as serious as he could be.

Hank's anger poured out.

“Connor's fucking dead! It's been ten years, Jeffrey! Ten!” He yelled, his face turning red. “That… That thing doesn't look a day over thirty! And Connor fucking died in that car crash! So what on fucking earth is this sick joke?”

Jeffrey almost shifted in his chair. Hank's gaze was downright unsettling, the man himself an intimidating person.

“Hank, shut the fuck up, sit the fuck down and listen for once to what people have to say, goddammit!” The captain said, pointing at the chair Hank was gripping so tight.

The Lieutenant threw his hands in the air and growled, but did as told. He pulled the chair violently and sat down, looking elsewhere.

“Connor's body was destroyed in that accident, yes. But Kamski, the guy from CyberLife-”

“The one who crashed against Connor's car?! That bastard?!”

Fowler didn't comment on the remark.

“He proposed to the Pages that they placed all functional organs in a preservation bank. Brain, an eye, a lung… So that he could use them to create a body for Connor. And after four years he succeeded. But Connor didn't wake up after… the assembly. Not until three and a half years ago, actually.”

Hank felt his heart beating painfully fast. He thought he was going into cardiac arrest. His voice was trapped somewhere in this throat. So Connor was… Connor was…

“H-He's alive?” He asked, after a while trying to make sense of everything, tears wetting his eyes for the umpteenth time. This time though, he didn't even try to prevent them from falling. “That's really him?”

The Captain nodded and sighed, feeling empathetic.

“Yes. He just… When he woke up, he didn't remember anything. Not even who he was.”

“Not even… So he has amnesia?” Hank asked, eyebrows knitted. He dried his tears with the sleeve of his jacket.

“Well, now he remembers most of it. But not everything.”

“And why haven't I been told this? Why am I only finding out about this now?” He growled, standing up.

“You cut all the ties when you moved to New York, Hank! What the fuck were we supposed to do after all those years, huh?”

“Well, you managed to get me here, didn't ya? Fuck you, Jeffrey. I'm outta here!”

“Hank! Don't you dare!”

To this, Lieutenant raised his hand and gave his superior the middle finger, storming out of the office, slamming the door as he left. The whole room stared at him. Those who had known Hank for long were just as surprised as those who'd never worked with him. Gavin looked at the man too and thought twice before going after him, but he did it anyway.

“Hank, I-”

“You! You shut the hell up, Reed!” Anderson pointed an accusing finger at the younger detective, hitting him in the chest. “You knew and you said nothing!”

To this, Reed had nothing to say, so he kept quiet. He sighed and backed away, returning to his desk. Hank looked at Connor and felt his blood boil again.

 _Fuck this and fuck them_ , he thought before leaving the precinct for good.

A moment of silence followed before everyone went back to work, commenting on what had happened.

“Again, Gavin, what was that? If looks could kill…” Connor asked, dumbfounded.

The other brunette scoffed.

“You'll know about it. In time.”

* * *

Hank didn't show up at the precinct for almost a week after that episode. He'd drunk himself every night until he was passed out on the floor or the couch. He didn't know what to do with his life now. How was he supposed to work with Connor after all he'd found out?

Was it really him or was that a lie and there was no Connor left at all? And if that was really him, could he still find the old Connor in there, somewhere? There was only one way to find out, wasn't there?

After that week off, Hank showed up the precinct around 10 am, looking presentable. He walked straight over to Fowler's office, who didn't say anything about his absence or his outburst, opting to put that behind his back and not bring the subject up at all. He knew better than that and he'd had enough.

“I've seen that you've built quite the disciplinary folder. I hope you behave properly here. I don't wanna have to add any more pages to that shit, cause it already looks like a fucking novel, Hank.”

The other man scoffed at that, finding the choice of words rather amusing.

“I mean it, Hank. You're a police lieutenant, for fuck's sake. Act like one.”

“I will. Anything else?” He asked, folding his arms across his chest.

“No, that'll be all.”

“What about a partner?”

“Connor is with Gavin.”

“I know, that's not what I fucking asked, was it?” He let out, his voice dripping bitterness.

The Captain let out a deep breath.

“No, you don't have one. You'll be working alone for the time being.”

“Fuckin’ A.” Anderson muttered and left the office. He went to his car and brought a box back with him. In there were his belongings, the shit he usually kept around on his desk. So he unpacked and settled down in his new sanctuary. He looked over at Connor's desk, which was just there, right by his. The other detective wasn't there. He then looked across the room at Gavin's. He wasn't there too. Hank shook his head and went back to getting his desk as organized as he could manage.

Not ten minutes later someone approached his desk. He looked up from his terminal and his eyes met the sweetest pair of eyes he'd ever seen his life.

“Good morning, Lieutenant Anderson. I'm… I'm Connor, Gavin's partner. It's good to see you finally joining us.” The young detective said, reaching out a hand. He couldn't have known what kind of torture he was inflicting on the older man just by standing there, talking to him. The undefinable feeling overwhelmed Hank. It made him want to die.

He cleared his throat and stood up, taking a good look at the man in front of him. Perfect, down to the detail. Connor's fucking spitting image.

“Hank Anderson. You can call me Hank, drop the lieutenant crap.” He said simply, shaking hands with his former partner, who was downright beaming at him and he couldn't understand why. He then let go of the hand and returned to his affairs, leaving Connor looking like a kicked puppy, a mix of hurt and disappointment now written on his face.

Gavin, who had been watching the exchange from afar, approached them.

“Connor, you dipshit, leave Anderson be. He's just gotten here, he's got a lot of shit to do and we gotta leave now. A call just came in.”

A soft blush spread across Connor's face and he glared at Reed, looking rather pissed.

“What?” The other detective asked, eyebrows raised in confusion.

“Nothing. Let's just go.” And they both left.

When they were both in Gavin's car, he turned to face Connor.

“What was that all about?”

Connor looked at him with a frustrated expression on his face. He opened his mouth to say something but exhaled instead. He bit his lip and shrugged, looking through the window.

“I… I don't get it. Why he didn't say we were partners.” He said, not looking at Reed, who almost choked on his spit when he heard this.

“What do you mean? You remembered?” He asked, expectant.

But the other man shook his head.

“No. But I did my research, I know we were partners for a long time. But he didn't even acknowledge that. He just introduced himself like we've never even met before, Gavin. I thought I was the one with amnesia.” He let out a self-deprecating laugh. “Apparently…”

“Listen” Gavin started, touching Connor's chin and making him look at him, to see how serious he was. “Hank thought you were dead. He has a lot on his plate right now, okay? He's having troubling adjusting, but he'll come around, okay?”

“I'm the reason he left, aren't I?”

“Yeah, Connor. You were his partner. You mattered to him. More than he cared to admit. Your death was a devastating blow. And, as you can see, he's never really gotten over it. Just give him time.”

“Alright. I just hope I can remember.”

* * *

Hank would have been lying if he said he wasn't disappointed at that first encounter. He'd expected to trigger something in Connor when the two of them shook hands, but nothing had happened.

He remained in the precinct all day, just catching up. He introduced himself to those who he'd never worked with and it was about it. When the clock hit 5 pm, he stood up and waved goodbye, making his exit of the room, only then noticing the row of androids on their station, by the wall.

“Shit… We've got a lot of plastic fuckers around here, don't we?” He commented, stopping next to Chris’ desk, his eyes focused on the bots. Officer Miller looked over his shoulder to the androids and nodded.

“Yeah. CyberLife is based here in Detroit, so don't be surprised.” He said, shrugging. Hank sighed and left the precinct, shaking his head. He hadn't noticed Gavin and Connor arrival just before he decided to leave. Both detectives were standing near the other entrance, just staring. Connor's eyes were focused on those androids, like they were the most interesting thing in the world. Gavin touched his shoulder.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

“A plastic fucker, Gav. That's what I am to him.” He let out, before he too left the precinct. They were done with the investigation for the day, there was no point in remaining there. Gavin could register the evidence himself.

He wasn't feeling okay.

Sometimes, Connor had breakdowns. He knew he was human where it mattered, but he couldn't help thinking that people more often than not saw him as an android. Even his family.

When he'd woken up, he had stayed with them for a while, in order to recover and remember. And things were going smoothly, but as he started to get better and better, he got the feeling that he didn't belong.

 _Maybe if I'd awoken sooner they wouldn't have forgotten what it's like to have me here_ , he often thought.

That was the reason why he got his own place as soon as he went back to the DPD. He couldn't stand his mother asking him if he was alright every ten minutes or the look in his father's eyes when he thought Connor wasn't paying attention.

Or that one time when his father was talking with his mother in the library.

“ _Sometimes, Claire, he has this look in his eyes…  God, it gives me the creeps.”_

“ _Philip, he still hasn't recovered his memory, it's natural he gets lost sometimes…”_

“ _You heard what the doctors said. The more time passes, the lower are the chances he'll remember completely. And he sustained a lot of brain damage, he might never recover 100%.”_

“ _He's doing great! He remembers a great deal already, I'm sure he'll remember the rest.”_

“ _Claire, maybe it's time you accept that we lost our son in that car crash. This… This Connor is a shell of our son.”_

After that, he left and went to his room, where he spent the night crying, curled up on his bed. He knew it would result in a severe headache, but bottling it all up wasn't any better. What could be worse than having to choose between two evils?

With Hank's return he'd thought he'd be able to scratch another wall in his mind. Having found out that the two of them had been partners had brought him joy. Maybe Hank could help him by telling what it was like before. And now he realized how wrong he'd been. How naive he'd been to think that his former partner would see him any differently than his family.

 _We were probably just co-workers_ , he thought that night, while lying on his bed. He wished he could follow Gavin's advice. His partner often told him to stop live in the past and start enjoying the present because otherwise he wouldn't be happy. Not able to remember the past and not living the present. What a waste of life.

* * *

The first month went by smoothly for Hank. He'd solved every case he'd been assigned, regardless of difficulty. Sometimes he found the culprit and obtained a confession before 5 pm came around, sometimes it took longer, but eventually got to the bottom of it. He assisted Ben Collins in most cases, but he was alone on a few as well, sometimes having Miller's assistance.

In this last case, however, things didn't go as smoothly for him. He'd just arrived at a crime scene, having gotten the call from Ben. He'd been watching the Detroit Gears game when he'd gotten a phone call saying that a homicide report had come in. He left the house and joined Ben for the investigation. They were just discussing the possibilities when Reed and Page arrived. He looked at both of them and felt his body tense up.

“What the hell are you guys doing here?” He asked, turning away from the victim.

“Hey, Hank. Connor and I have been assigned all crimes involving androids.”

Hank pressed his lips into a thin line.

“Well, suit yourselves. But I was dragged out of my house at this fucking hour, so I'm staying. After tonight, you two can do whatever the fuck you want.”

“Lieutenant Anderson, you may go home, if you wish. Gavin and I will handle it from here.”

“I said I am staying, Page. You're deaf?” He said, not really meaning to be so rude. Gavin stepped in front of him.

“Can I have a word with you, Hank? Ben, update Connor on the leads we've got while I have a chat with Anderson.” He said, going outside and expecting the older man to follow. Which Hank did.

“What do you want, Gavin?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance.

“When are you gonna stop being an asshole to Connor, huh?”

“What the hell are you on about? Did I hurt his feelings by talking to him like that?”

“You know damn well what I'm on about, Hank. I've wanted to have this conversation ever since you've come back. Now you're gonna listen to me.” Gavin said, a finger on Hank's chest. “You know Connor did research on you? Do you know he knows you were partners before? Can you imagine what he felt like when you pretended you didn't know him, hm? You can't, can you? And do you even know how self-conscious he can get when reminded that his body is not flesh and bones? I suggest you choose your words more carefully from now on and next time you think about calling androids ‘plastic fuckers’ or something of the sort, don't. Stop thinking about yourself for a goddamn moment and open your goddamn eyes, because you're not the only one who's been in pain and you're certainly not the real victim here.”

Hank was taken aback by Gavin's words. He felt his heart slow painfully down. He didn't know what to say, mainly because he was still processing the information but also because he felt shame eating him. He'd assumed Connor hadn't known anything about him, since he didn't mention it. But now… now he knew the younger man had been expecting acknowledgment and he'd failed him.

“I… He heard me say that? I didn't know he was there, I… I didn't mean it for him.” He said, when he could finally come up with words.

“Well, you might not have meant it that way, but he's made of plastic now, isn't he? I'm not telling you this to make you feel bad. I'm telling you this so that you can change your behavior, because I care about my partner and I don't want him down. And I know you care about him too, so… Help him. I know you want him back. You, more than anyone, want that.”

Hank scoffed.

“He was my partner, but he's yours now. I don't want it any more than you do.” He lied.

Something changed in Gavin's eyes. His voice came out lower this time.

“Drop it, Hank. I know you were more than just partners.”

At that, Hank's jaw dropped and his first instinct was to deny everything, but he knew Gavin wasn't stupid, so there was no point in it.

“Let's go inside, Reed. If you're done.”

“I am. Hope you're done too.”

And with that he left, entering the house again. Hank followed him and they both found Ben and Connor in the kitchen.

“I think I know what happened here.” Connor said, looking at Hank, who just nodded, telling him to proceed. “The victim attacked the android with the bat, right here in the kitchen. The android grabbed the knife and tried to defend itself, hence why there are no fingerprints on the knife. The victim tried to flee to the living room, but the bot followed and kept on stabbing him until he was dead.”

They listened to the theory very carefully and nodded their approval.

“Okay, that lines up with the evidence.” Hank said and Gavin took a look around, trying to make sense of that. He didn't have a clue of what had happened, but Connor knew better, so he trusted his judgment.

“And the android? Where did it flee to, though?” Reed asked, folding his arms across his chest.

“I thought he could have left through the back door, but there are no footprints other than Ben's.” Hank supplied, jabbing his finger over his shoulder in the back door's direction.

“It's raining and it's been weeks, judging by the body's state of decomposition. Of course there wouldn't be a trail.” Gavin said, sighing.

“Nah… This type of soil would've retained a trace. No one has been out there for a long time.” Hank explained, shaking his head. “We're fucking screwed. We can sample the android's blue blood and find out its model and serial number, but finding it…”

“That's it, Lieutenant.” Connor said, his head snapping in the bat's direction. “Actually, you can't sample thirium because it evaporates. As you can see, there's none on the bat anymore. But it leaves a residue that can still be seen by androids. Or me, for that matter.”

Without waiting for any of them to say something, Connor looked for the blue traces he knew were there. He followed them into another corridor, further into the house. He stopped when he reached a wall and looked around him. A blue handprint could be seen on the attic's trapdoor. He returned to the kitchen.

“I think I found it. It's in the attic.” He said, pointing in the corridor's direction.

“Holy shit.” Hank let out and when he noticed Connor grabbing a chair, he spoke.

“Hey, hey, hey, what are you doing?”

The brunette looked at him.

“I'm going to check it.”

“Like hell you are.” Hank said, taking the chair off Connor's hands. “He could still be armed. I'm going.”

He took the chair himself and went up into the attic. He grabbed his gun and held it in front of him, carefully advancing. He tried not to make any noises, but the old wooden floor creaked beneath his weight. His eyes carefully scanned the place, dark, only illuminated by the moonlight coming through a small window. He then saw something. A tiny red light, circling, blinking.

“DPD, show yourself, hands where I can see them! Or I'll shoot.” He said, his voice menacing. He didn't need to repeat himself because a scared looking android came out of its hiding spot, hands held high.

“Please, don't shoot. I don't wanna die.” He said, looking with despair at the gun Hank was holding.

They both got out of the attic and the police arrested the android. Hank put his gun in the holster and let out a sigh.

“Fucking hell. I'm not gonna be able to sleep, but I ain't gonna interrogate him now, that's for sure.” He turned to Connor. “Nice job.”

Connor's eyes widened just a bit at the compliment and a soft shade blue spread across his cheeks. He was surprised. He hadn't been expecting such words from the Lieutenant.

“Thank you, Hank. You too.” He said, clearing his throat and looking over at Gavin. “Are we going home?”

“Yeah, we'll ask questions tomorrow. Let's go. Night Hank, Ben.” Reed said, waving and making his exit.

Connor smiled at Hank and left, excited to tell Gavin about what had happened. They'd come in his car, so he would have to give Gavin a ride.

“Why do you think Hank went into the attic?” Connor asked, without taking his eyes off the road. They'd been silent for some time now. He refrained from saying something like ‘Why do you think Hank went into the attic in my place?’. It would have been ridiculous.

“Hm?” Gavin said, looking away from the window, to his partner. “Oh, that. He knew it could be dangerous. He cares about you, dipshit. Despite what he might have said. He would never allow you to go into that attic knowing it might be dangerous if he's there to take your place.”

Connor swallowed hard at that. He wanted to believe those words.

“He complimented me. Said I'd done a good job.”

“Yeah, it seems he finally removed that stick from his ass. Cool.” Gavin smirked.

Connor couldn't explain why, but he felt something warm pool in his belly. It seemed there was more to Hank Anderson than met the eye.

* * *

In time, Hank allowed himself to interact more and more with Connor. The last thing he wanted was the man to feel unwelcome in his presence, so he stopped being stubborn and started going out for coffee with Gavin and Connor. And whenever one of them came to him asking for expertise he would gladly help them, putting his work on hold. He realized as time went by that Connor hadn't changed a thing. His personality was the same, even if his memories weren't there. That was the man he'd fallen in love with all those years ago. He had been screwed then and he was screwed now. He'd never fallen out of love. And ten years ago he'd never found the courage to tell Connor how he'd felt about him. Would he have it now? He almost snorted at the thought, every time it crossed his mind.

 _Things were different before and you never had the courage. It's not gonna be now_ , he thought, sipping his whiskey. He usually thought about the past when in the comfort of a faithful whiskey bottle.

One morning, he was sitting at his desk, writing the report of his last case. Connor was there too, behind his desk, writing. Suddenly, he heard the younger detective mutter.

“Shit.”

It was followed by an exasperated sigh and that got Hank's attention. He stopped typing and looked over the screen of his terminal, at Connor.

“Something happened?” He asked, eyebrows furrowed in concern. It wasn't usual to hear Connor swear. The brunette looked at him and nodded.

“Yeah. Gavin called in sick today, so I'm on my own and I was just assigned a case.” He explained, looking around them and then back at Hank. “I was wondering… Would you like to join me?”

Hank was taken aback by the proposal, in all honesty.

“Act as your partner?”

“Yes. Like the good old times.” Connor said very convincingly, as if he wasn't amnesiac.

The gray-haired man snorted at that, finding it rather amusing.

“Connor, you don't even remember the old times you're talking about.”

Page's smile faltered a bit.

“Weren't they good?” He asked, now feeling insecure.

Hank grinned at that and nodded.

“The best I've ever had.” He said, standing up and grabbing his coat. “Come on then, let's go.”

And so they left the precinct together and went in Anderson's car. Connor had insisted on taking his but Hank had quickly dismissed the idea because ‘ _If it's like the good old times, then I'm driving_ ’ and that was it.

It had snowed during the night, so the sidewalks had a white sheet over them. Some people carried shopping bags, obviously doing their Christmas shopping already, perhaps in order to avoid the typical Christmas rush. Some rushed to the bus stop or the train station.

They were halfway when Connor decided he'd had enough of the silence in the car. He took the liberty of turning the radio volume down, earning a look from Hank.

“I'd like to tell you about the case, Hank.”

“Uh, yeah, go ahead.”

“So apparently an AX400 attacked its owner last night and fled with his daughter. It was spotted in the Ravendale district. I just hope we're not late.” Connor said, taking his sweet time admiring Hank. Connor had never seen him with his hair tied up in a bun. It suited him, but the younger man refrained from commenting, afraid he might offend the Lieutenant.

“Same. We'll just ask some questions and we'll see what we've got and how we can move from there. We're here.”

Hank pulled over and parked his car behind a DPD one. Ben and Chris were already there. Both detectives got out of the car and approached the police.

“Hey, both of you.” Ben said, looking up from his tablet. He briefed Hank and Connor on the information he and Chris had gathered thus far, pointing at a couple of places and people. Connor listened carefully and started thinking. Maybe they were lucky.

“So it was forced to leave the bus at the end of the line… The decision wasn't premeditated. It acted out of fear.” The brunette said.

Hank frowned.

“Androids don't feel fear.”

“Deviants do. If it attacked its owner… It's deviant. Now… Have you checked the motel?”

Ben looked at him and shook his head.

“No, we didn't consider it a priority since androids aren't allowed there.”

“Yeah, but you said it asked for money on the convenience store and managed to steal it, correct? Plus, I've noticed there's a laundromat down the street. It might have gotten some clothes there. Come on, Hank.” He said, already going on his way, crossing the street. Hank just smiled, remembering how sharp a detective Connor was. He followed his partner and they asked some questions to the owner, who told them that there had been, indeed, a lady and a little girl checking in the previous night. Hank and Connor rushed to the room, but Hank stopped the brunette.

“Stay here. Just in case.” He said, going on his own. Connor frowned, but did as told. He looked around when a noise caught his attention. He looked in its general direction and found a door semi-open. He rushed there and when he opened it he still managed to see the shadow of someone leaving through another door. He didn't waste any time and pursued whoever it was.

“Fuck, it's them!” He yelled, when he took a good look at who he was pursuing, alerting the cops in the area. It was in times like this that he was thankful for not tiring. It was very useful in pursuits. Nevertheless, he wasn't quick enough. Or crazy, for that matter.

“Fuck, what are they doing?” Came Hank's breathless voice from behind him. The both of them stood by a fence, watching as the android and the girl attempted to cross the highway.

“It's suicide. I should've been faster!” Connor said, gripping the fence tightly. Hank's hand landed on his shoulder.

“It's okay, Connor. Let's go.” The older man said, his hand now grabbing one of Connor's and pulling him along.

The brunette let go of the fence and turned to leave, not before checking that the fugitives made it to the other side of the highway unscathed. He had a feeling they had done nothing wrong. He then noticed Hank was holding his hand. And apparently Hank realized it too because he blushed - Connor could swear the Lieutenant was blushing! - and made to let go of the hand, but the young man prevented that.

“I really need some comfort now, Hank. I need this.” He said, looking at their hands. Then he hugged a bewildered Hank. “And this.” He added, his mouth now close to the taller man's ear.

Anderson didn't think twice and hugged him back, tight. He knew Connor was a sensitive person, which contrasted beautifully with the way he behaved when in the interrogation room. He was very, very intimidating and sometimes merciless then. It blew Hank's mind every time.

“Wanna go grab a bite?” He asked after a while.

Connor smiled against Hank's shoulder.

“I don't eat, Hank.”

“Well, but I do.”

“I was messing with you. Of course I'll join you. Gary's?”

Hank's body went rigid. His voice came out low next.

“You didn't research that, did you?”

Connor blinked and let go of the embrace, taken aback, just as much as Anderson looked. He looked into the man's blue eyes and shook his head.

“I… I did not.” He answered, trying to find a plausible explanation. “Lately, I've been having these flashbacks…”

“Flashbacks?”

“Fragments of the past… And sometimes I dream about things too. You used to go to Gary's, didn't you? That idea just popped up in my mind now.”

Hank nodded and licked his lips.

“We should probably go to a hospital or something.”

“No! No, I'm fine. It's perfectly normal.” The brunette dismissed the idea and started walking. “Let's go meet Ben and Chris and then we'll leave, okay?”

“Alright.”

* * *

But it wasn't really alright. Not for Connor, things weren't. The closer he got to Hank, the more glimpses of the past he saw. Once a week at least he'd have an episode at work. He would often look at Hank when he knew the man wasn't looking. He felt very ashamed, but he couldn't avoid it. He found the man attractive. Everything about him invited Connor in and he wasn't strong enough to stop. He had tried to look it up, but had found nothing. He'd found nothing about a marriage or a divorce, so he could just assume the man had always been single. But surely that wasn't true? Hank was an attractive man, always had been, he thought. So he was missing something. Obviously.

 _But I'm a fucking detective. I'll get to the bottom of this_ , he thought one day, his eyes following the figure of Hank as the man left the precinct for lunch. He felt a presence behind him and spun his chair around, facing Gavin.

“Oh, Gavin.”

His partner stood there, arms folded across his chest, with a knowing look in his gray eyes.

“Are you ever gonna stop looking?”

“At what?”

“Do you need to me to take a picture of you staring at Anderson? Or maybe record a video, so that you see that you do it all the goddamn time?”

Connor blushed in obvious embarrassment and stood up before things got out of hand.

“Are you gonna invite me for lunch or are you just gonna keep on preaching to the choir?”

A triumphant grin appeared on Reed's lips.

“Fucking finally! A confession. Was about time, tin can.”

“Don't call me that.” Connor glared at his partner but he knew it would do nothing.

“Easy, boy. Keep calm.”

During lunch at the Italian restaurant they usually went to on Wednesdays, Connor asked a few questions about Hank, but Gavin knew better. He could tell the difference between curiosity and what could be described as an interrogation. Hands down.

“No, Con, he wasn't married, so he isn't divorced. And whether or not he had or has someone is none of my business. And it's not my story to tell. He was always very private. Ask him yourself.”

Connor sighed in defeat.

“It pisses me off because I have the feeling I knew all those things before and I can remember none. It's driving me crazy. I only remember the not important stuff. And I make some shit up along the way.”

“What do you mean?” Gavin arched an eyebrow, sipping his water. He wanted to tell Connor all about him and Anderson. It was hard to watch his friend struggle with something that could easily be solved. But he knew it wasn't his place to say anything.

“I… I dream about him, sometimes. About… About us.” Connor finally said, struggling to find the right words.

“Us?”

“I swear to God that if you so much as think about making fun of me or go tell him a word of what I'm gonna say you're history, you hear me?”

Oh, this was gonna be good.

“You have my word, Con. I wouldn't dream of it.” Gavin said, trying not to laugh. “I'm sorry, let me laugh before you tell me whatever it is you're about to do because I don't wanna be history.” He laughed for a while and then took a deep breath. “Shit, okay. You can go ahead.”

Connor remained quiet. If looks could kill…

“What? I can laugh before you drop the bomb, or what?”

“What are you? Five? I don't even know why I put up with you.”

Gavin's eyes suddenly went wide, in realization, and he wasn't laughing anymore.

“Shit. I know what you're gonna tell me.”

It was just a guess, but he could see Connor was uncomfortable about whatever dreams those were. But maybe those weren't dreams but more memories. Only Connor didn't think they were possible memories, so he had deemed those flashbacks dreams.

“You do?”

“Do those dreams involve you and Anderson in the sheets?”

Brown eyes widened at that. A tinge of blue colored the pale skin of Connor's face.

“Fuck. Actually, don't answer that.” Gavin said, shaking his head. He finished eating his carbonara and looked up at Connor again, taking in his partner's stiff stance. “Relax, man, it's normal. You're attracted to him. Ask him out on a date, for fuck's sake.”

A shadow of sadness crossed Connor's eyes and Gavin wondered what he'd said wrong.

“He… He wouldn't be interested in me like that. I'm made of plastic, Gav.”

Gavin just stared at Connor for a while, taking in the words, not quite sure of what to say. So he reached out a hand and touched Connor's.

“Look, you can't possibly think that. Anderson isn't like that and… And if he was then he wouldn't deserve you.”

“Does he even like men?”

“He doesn't have to like men. He just has to like you. And you ain't that hard to look at.”

Connor smiled at that.

“Thanks, Gav. I think I'll do that once… Once I'm prepared.”

* * *

The time didn't come until the year was well into December. Connor took his time studying Hank's behavior when they were together and he couldn't say the man seemed even remotely interested in him, much to his dismay. Hank would sometimes join him and Gavin for lunch. Nothing out of the ordinary. When their group went for drinks at the club downtown after hours… Again, nothing out of the ordinary. So why the fuck would he go and ask the man out on the date? Just to ruin everything?

He wasn't having that.

But that DPD Christmas party wasn't supposed to go down the way it did.

They'd brought in food and drinks to have the little get-together after working hours. There was music playing and people were overall chatting, eating, drinking. Fowler even gave a speech, wishing all a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. You know the drill.

Hank wasn't too fond of this time of the year. It brought up bad memories, ones he'd rather forget. Well, in all honesty, things had changed now. But still… What had happened had robbed him of joy and passion. It would be hard to get used to it again. So he sat at his desk, sipping the third beer of the night. His eyes were trained on Connor, taking in his form. Would he ever remember? Hell, maybe it was even for the better if he didn't. They were nothing now and… Things would just get awkward if he remembered what they used to be.

 _Can you imagine, Anderson? Poor kid would be even more confused than he is now_ , he thought, putting the bottle down and leaving the room, going outside for a smoke. He hadn't smoked in a while, but he always carried a pack of cigarettes with him for times like this. Times when it all seemed too much. When he thought too much.

He leaned against the wall, around the corner, a bit far from the back door he'd just left through. Took a long drag and stared at nothing, focusing on nothing, his mind empty all of a sudden.

“You shouldn't smoke. It's bad for you, Hank.”

He thought he'd heard that familiar voice. He turned to look and found Connor standing there, arms folded across his chest. He too leaning against the wall.

“Well, a lot of things are, Connor.”

“You look sad.”

Hank almost winced at that. He put out his cigarette and looked down, distracted.

“Maybe I am.”

“Why? Is it because it's that time of the year?”

At that, Hank's head snapped in Connor's direction.

“What do you mean?”

Connor looked at Hank in disbelief and actually scoffed.

“When are you gonna stop treating me like I don't know shit? When are you gonna stop treating me like I'm made of glass and might break? I'm not stupid, surely you know that. I know you're holding something back. Gavin told me you left Detroit when I died. Because you couldn't take it. So don't pretend for once.”

Hank was gritting his teeth now. Gavin and his big mouth. What business did he have to go around and tell Connor about shit like that?

“Why are you doing this to me, Connor? I don't have to talk about shit if I don't want to! What do you want to hear, huh?”

Connor felt his true eye sting. He wanted to cry, he hated being talked to like this by his former partner. It hurt. He blinked and exhaled.

“I wanted you to tell me it's okay and that things are gonna be like they were before because I remember!” He finally said, a fist hitting the wall. It hurt, but not as much as the way Hank words cut through him.

But Hank wasn't there anymore. He was far already, his eyes cold, hard.

“It's not okay and it's never gonna be okay because you think you fucking know everything but you're missing a big chunk of the whole picture! But maybe it's you who just doesn't wanna remember it because it wasn't that important!”

He would regret these words in the morning, when sober. When it would already be too late to take them back, because the moment he said them was already too late. The damage was already done. And maybe he should have talked with someone about it all instead of bottling it all up inside him because, sooner or later, it was bound to explode. And it felt good when it all came out. For one second. Maybe less. Because Connor's face transformed and transformed, as if he was feeling a million things at the same time and didn't know which to express, then. Eventually, it settled in what Hank thought was sadness at first. But even drunk he was able to tell between sadness and disappointment. And hurt. There was hurt there too. He clenched his jaw and rushed out of there, before he could do something else he would regret the next day, leaving a shattered Connor behind.

* * *

He hated this feeling. The feeling that he wasn't doing good enough. Trying hard enough. Rationally, he knew he had no fault. It wasn't his fault he couldn't remember. But there was this voice in his mind telling him he could do better than waiting for his brain to remember. That he didn't have to be a prisoner of the past forever.

He thought of asking Gavin. Gavin would tell him everything he knew about his relationship with Hank if he only saw the despair Connor was in. But that wouldn't be remembering. That would be cheating.

For days, Connor thought about it. About what he could do to remember. And he wasn't expecting the answer to show up during an investigation for sure.

He and Gavin had gone to the house of a businessman who'd been murdered in cold blood. There weren't many leads to investigate right on the spot, much to Connor's frustration.

“Well, we've got his computer. That shit is bound to have some information. His whole life is in there, I bet.” Gavin had said, jabbing his finger over his shoulder and then placing both hands on his hips. “Come on, Con, there's not much else to do here.”

But Connor wasn't paying attention anymore. His brain kept replaying Gavin's words in his mind.

 _That shit is bound to have some information. His whole life is in there_.

“Shit.”

“What is it, Connor?” Gavin looked at the other man, confused.

Connor snapped out of it.

“Nothing. We should go, I've gotta go to my parents’.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I just remembered something important.”

How could he have never thought about it? If he wanted to learn something about his past, he should've looked for it in things that had actual traces of it in them. He just hoped his parents had kept his old stuff. And that the computer and the cellphone were still functioning.

He drove to his parents' house in a haste. They were both surprised to see him there.

“Oh, Connor, we weren't expecting you. But it's so good to see you.” His mom said, kissing his cheek and hugging him. He hugged her back and nodded to his father.

“Yeah, I just remembered something, didn't even think about calling you. Do my old computer and cellphone still exist?” He asked, crossing his fingers behind his back.

His mother arched both eyebrows in yet another demonstration of surprise.

“Why, yes. I believe they're in a box under your bed. Or maybe in the closet. I can help you look for it.”

“No.” He declined, smiling, already walking towards the stairs. “No need to, shouldn't be too difficult. Thanks, though.”

He ran upstairs and locked himself in the room and looked for that box. It was, fortunately, under his bed. He opened it and found that everything was there. He connected the charger to the phone and tried turning on his laptop, which worked. He bit his knuckles in excitement. But said excitement died when he got to the password screen.

“Shit.” He muttered under his breath. He could remember a couple of passwords he used to have when he was a teenager, so he hoped any of those worked. He tried the most obvious one, then the other ones. He was lucky to log in after the fifth attempt. For the cell phone, he tried his birth year. Super secure, he knew, but good thing he had been dumb enough back then because it worked wonders for him now.

He took a deep breath and started browsing his cellphone. He wasn't surprised when he opened the messages and saw that Hank was the first conversation of the list of messages.

_I fucking knew it._

He opened that particular chat and read through it, very carefully. If he wanted to learn something about their relationship he had to do so.

And right he was.

The deeper he got, the more eager he became. His eyes were absorbing every word and its meaning quickly. Connor covered his mouth with a hand when he realized. Like rain that started pouring all too quickly, so did his memories. First, he realized the dreams he thought he was having weren't actually dreams. They'd been memories that he had just been too obtuse to see for what they were.

Had Gavin known about it?

 _Probably not… Apparently we weren't together… It was casual, but…_ Connor thought, his eyebrows furrowing. He found it odd. There were no love words exchanged, but judging the way he had texted Hank… He would believe he'd been in love with the man.

He moved on to the gallery to look for any photos or videos. And they existed, as apparently Connor liked to take selfies in bed. He recognized some of those moments from his dreams and he smiled. They both looked happy there. The smile suddenly turned to a sad one, realization hitting him hard. They had lost all of that in that car crash.

 _Don't be stupid, there was nothing between you to be lost_ , he quickly reminded himself, wiping a tear off his cheek. He put the laptop and the phone away and curled up in his bed. He wanted to sleep and let himself be assaulted by those memories that only came to him when he closed his eyes. He wanted to live there, where nothing was complicated. And he was rewarded.

“ _Connor, how do you expect me to last when you… Fuck… D-Don't… Ah…” Hank said, arching his back and jerking his hips up, seeking the heat of Connor's throat. The boy was deepthroating him like it was nobody's business. And Hank wasn't made of steel, so he came with a moan, his hands gripping the sheets so tightly his knuckles turned white._

_The brunette swallowed all of it and then ran his tongue up and down the shaft several times until there was no cum left there._

“ _Sorry, Lieutenant… You're hard to resist.” He said, chuckling and straddling Hank, leaning down to kiss him, right when the man was in the middle of recovering his breath. But he didn't argue, just kissed along, their tongues intertwined._

“ _That's good… Cause I was hoping to have a taste of that ass.” The older man said, bringing his hands to Connor's ass cheeks and giving them both a firm squeeze. The brunette moaned and rolled his hips, feeling the Lieutenant's cock harden._

“ _Please, Hank… I want it more than anything… Fuck me, please…”_

_Hank grinned and pushed himself into Connor, his eyes focused on the lithe body on top of his. Connor arched his back, his hands flat on Hank's chest._

“ _Ah… Hank… God, I'm so full of you…” He let out in a hot moan, rolling his hips, getting that cock deeper inside him. Hank helped him, his own hips moving up, seeking more of the palpable pleasure in Connor's body._

_The temperature rose. The scent of sex was heavy in the air. For the following minutes, only their moans and gasps filled the room. At first, just a couple, but slowly increasing in volume and frequency, as did the intensity of the thrusts. Suddenly, it escalated. And then, just as so, it came to an end, louder moans now leaving their mouths as they both reached climax in the arms of one another._

“Hank!” Connor woke up with a startle, his lover's name on his lips, his boxers wet, his back arching deliciously on his bed as the orgasm washed over him, leaving him in the perfect state of post-orgasmic bliss. He remained still for a couple of minutes, staring at the ceiling, relishing it.

“Fuck… The best dream I've ever had…” He whispered, now looking at the mess he'd made of himself. He'd never cum to a dream, not like this anyway.

He sat up and checked the phone on the nightstand.

_Shit, 7:30… I told Hank I'd be at his place at 8._

Connor jumped off the bed and went to his closet, but found no sign of his clothes there.

“What the…?” He furrowed his eyebrows and looked around. Come to think of it, his room seemed different. It was empty. Where had all his books gone?

Intrigued, he opened the door and left his room, rushing downstairs. He almost fell down the stairs as he saw his mother coming into the hall.

“Connor? You're leaving already?” She asked, making a face when he tripped. “God, Connor, walk like a human being and don't jump the steps!”

“What are you doing here?” He asked her, reaching the bottom of the stairs, looking astonished. “You and dad… You went to Amsterdam for New Year's Eve… Why… Why is my closet empty? Where are my things?” He asked, trying to make sense of what was happening. Nothing was as supposed.

His mother looked at him like he'd just grown two other heads.

“What are you on about? That was ten years ago… Oh God… Connor, you remembered?”

The brunette arched an eyebrow and frowned.

“Remembered? Remembered what? What's happening? I don't like this. Are you guys screwing with me?” He asked, folding his arms across his chest.

“Connor, son, it's 2038. I was asking if you remembered anything from the past, from before the accident. Before the coma?”

A hint of realization passed through his brown eyes, his lips parting slightly. His brain froze for a second and he stared into the empty, as he processed the new information.

“Connor, say something. You're scaring me.” His mom said, touching his arm. He pulled away, as if her touch was capable of leaving a scald. He blinked and nodded.

“Yes. Yes, I remember now. I must… I must have triggered my memories when I was going through my old stuff and they all came back at once… My past probably overlapped my present… Holy… Wow…”

He was overwhelmed. And even that might be a bit of an understatement. It had worked, just the way he'd wanted. But it felt odd to have past and present so close in the time-line.

“I gotta go now, I have somewhere I need to be.” He needed to go find Hank and tell him something he wanted to have told him ten years ago. He rushed out the door before his mom could come up with something.

Half an hour later, he was standing in front of Hank's door. He'd been fired up and more than ready to tell him he'd been in love with him all along but now… Standing there, just inches away… He froze. The words seemed to have escaped somewhere far. His body wouldn't move.

Suddenly, he heard a loud bark from inside the house. And then another and another. It must have been Sumo. Connor remembered Hank saying he'd gotten himself a Saint Bernard when he moved to New York. Hell, the man talked about his dog a lot. Connor liked it when he did so. He loved dogs.

“What is it, Sumo? Get away from the door, there's nothing there.” He heard Hank's muffled voice through the door. He opened his mouth to say something, but instead raised his hand and knocked on the door, after thinking for a split second about turning on his heel and leave like a coward. Well, too late for that now.

Sumo barked some more and the door opened, revealing Anderson, who was wearing his old DPD hoodie - the one Connor loved to wear around the house! - and some training pants.

“Connor?” He asked, kicking himself mentally. Of course it was Connor. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, nevertheless. He hadn't been expecting anyone, let alone Connor, who he thought would never want to look at his face again, much less address him. Not after all the shit he'd said that night, but here they were.

“Hi. May I come in?” He asked, smiling, his eyes now focusing on Sumo. “That's Sumo, right?”

Hank nodded and stepped aside, letting the young man in. He knew Connor absolutely loved dogs and had always wanted to have one. That was part of the reason Hank had gotten one.

“Hey, Sumo! I'm Connor.” He said, kneeling and ruffling Sumo's neck. “Hank talks about you all the time, I was dying to meet you.” When the dog laid on his back, Connor scratched his belly. “You're such a good boy!”

Anderson watched the whole thing for a couple of seconds before realizing he was staring too much. He went back to the couch. Luckily, the house looked presentable. There were no take-out containers or empty bottles around.

“You wanted to talk?” He asked, looking at Connor again, who was still caressing the dog's fur. He let go of the Saint Bernard and stood up.

“Yeah. Uh… I just don't know how to tell you this…”

“Maybe try use words. They usually work when you wanna convey a message, ya know?”

That didn't help, definitely. Connor pulled a face.

“I was ready then, but I'm still not sure I can do this now… I mean…  Fuck it, I've got nothing to lose.” He ended up saying, feeling like caution was better if thrown to the wind.

“Are you thinking about making some fucking sense any time soon?” Hank asked, his patience running low. He wanted to apologize for his behavior in the past days and especially that dreadful night, but Connor's nervousness was making him even more nervous.

“I love you.” The brunette said simply, sitting on the couch before his legs gave in. Okay, they were never gonna give in, but it still felt like it, and he didn't want to take any chances.

Blue eyes narrowed at that and then relaxed again. Hank's mouth opened and he wanted to ask for a repeat, but he closed his lips shut before any word could come out. He shook his head in disbelief.

“You what now?”

“I love you. I said I love you.”

“Fuck, that's what I thought I heard. Shit.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I thought my ears were playing tricks on me but apparently it's you who-”

“I have for a long time now. Ten years, to be exact.”

Hank's mind was blank. It was void of any thought that made sense.

“What… What are you trying to tell me here, Connor?” He asked, feeling his heart pick up a rhythm. There was no fucking way.

“I'm telling you I remember everything.”

“Everything?”

“All of it.” Connor said in a whisper, reaching out a hand to hold one of Hank's. “Every word, every kiss, every touch and every thrust. The way you used to hold me down when you fucked me from behind. Fuck, I remember every single detail, Hank.” His brown eyes were now too black pools of lust fuelled by the memory of all the sinful things they used to do. “The way my body used to shiver whenever you said my name against my ear… Your voice, deep and rough, breathless… I'd give anything to hear it again.”

Hank listened to every word very carefully. So carefully that his body reacted to each of them, his cock twitching in interest. Such interest had made him forget how to breathe, his lungs failing him. When he realized he was suffocating, he let go of that breath he'd been holding, a blush on his face.

“Jesus, Connor…” He started, all him pride for not having stuttered despite the state of nerves and arousal he was currently in. “You can't say shit like that.”

Connor's lips changed to a feral grin.

“Why? Does my way of speaking do things to you, Lieutenant?” He asked, his voice dripping lust.

“Shut up. You know damn well what you do to me. Fuck, Connor, I'm not as young as I was.”

The brunette chuckled, moving closer on the couch. He took advantage of the moment and straddled the older man, placing the arms around his neck.

“Well, I think you'll do great.” He whispered, against his lips.

“You said you loved me?” Hank asked, looking up at those eyes. He could get lost in them any time.

“I would've told you that ten years ago. I wanted to confess my feelings to you that night but… You know, death happened and I was robbed of that chance”

“It's okay now, though.” Hank's voice was low as his hands came up to rest on Connor's firm ass cheeks. “I love you too. So very much.”

“I know. I know.” Connor let out in a sigh, his forehead resting against Hank's. “What do you say we take this to your room?”

Hank smacked Connor's ass loudly.

“Thought you'd never ask.” He said, kissing the young man with a pang of hunger the brunette had never witnessed before.

He stood and carried Connor in his arms to his bedroom. He got in and closed the door with a foot, before lying Connor on the bed and stripping the hoodie off. The brunette just laid back, supporting his body on his elbows, enjoying the view Hank was giving him.

“Do you feel?”

“Everything.” Connor said. “If you just touched me you would see just how sensitive I am.”

The older man growled and joined Connor on the bed, his body over the brunette's. He pressed their crotches together, eliciting a moan from his lover.

“Fuck. Wonders of technology.”

“You have seen nothing yet.” Connor chuckled and pulled Hank down for a kiss, eager to ravish his mouth. A lot of tongue and teeth was involved. Connor had a lot of pent-up tension inside him, sure, but Hank… Hank had years of it and he wasn't gonna go easy on his partner.

“I hope you don't tire, Con.” He whispered in the man's ear, before pushing his cock slowly all the way in, taking his sweet time to enjoy how good Connor felt around him. His chest was glued to Connor's back, both their bodies moving in sync, Hank's hand coming up to Connor's mouth, two fingers going into that mouth that drove him crazy. And the young man, like the good boy he was, wrapped his plump lips around those fingers and slicked them, twisting his tongue around them, just like he knew Hank liked it. He let out a whine when Anderson took the fingers out of his mouth, but the disappointment lasted until he felt those same fingers caressing his hard cock, smoothly, the fingers going up and down.

“Fuck, Hank… Just do it…”

“What, baby?” He asked, thrusting harder before wrapping his big hand around Connor's slick cock. “This?”

The man underneath him arched his back and moved his hips harder against his own, his cock burying deeper.  
“I'm so close, Hank, don't stop…” Connor's voice came out breathy, as if he was tired, which he was not. But Hank liked it that way nevertheless.

“Oh, but I am…” He moaned and let go of Connor's cock, both hands now coming to rest upon the man's waist, bringing him closer to him, faster, until he came inside him, muttering obscenities.

“Oh, God, Hank… Ahh… I'm…”

“Don't you… Fuck, don't you dare…”

But Connor was too far gone to try and hold back. His face was pressed against a pillow and he was drooling on it as he spilled his cum all over the sheets, not a care in the world. Hank's cock in him cumming inside him, the dirty words… It had all been too much for him.

Both their bodies collapsed, Hank's on top of Connor's, with no intention of rolling to the side.

The older man's breathing was heavy on the brunette's ear.

“I told you not to cum, Con…”

Connor looked over his shoulder, licking his lips.

“Next time, keep your mouth shut… You know I'm a sucker for dirty talking…”

“Fucking unbelievable. You made a fucking mess on my sheets” Hank said, moving away, lying on his back. He turned his head to look at Connor, blue eyes meeting brown ones. A hand came up and he brushed that loose strand away.  
“I love you. I'm not gonna let you out of my sight ever again.”

“Ever again?” Connor smiled.

“That's what I said.”

“So this is forever.”

Hank took in the beautiful face of his lover, going over every detail, again and again, memorizing what perfection looked like. He too smiled.

“Forever.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for making it this far!  
> This is, for me, my most important work thus far. I hope you guys liked this story, it was such a pleasure to write it!  
> Kudos and comments and bookmarks are greatly appreciated!  
> As usual, I apologize for any spelling or grammar mistakes.  
> Also, check this series of fanarts: https://aing0v0.tumblr.com/post/182597254111/comic-series-memory-part1-of-many-parts  
> The plot is very similar to this one from what I gathered and it was such a coincidence! That work deserves a lot of love, too!
> 
> Until the next one!


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